Rest in peace
by Hypatia-s
Summary: The feelings and thoughts of a demon exterminator, and about his special relationship with life and with Naraku. Warning: yaoi, shonen ai.
1. Kohaku

**_Warning:_** there'll be yaoi, although there will not be hentai acts. Sorry guys. However, it has hard images.

**_Warning: _**violence, lots and lots and lots of anguish.

**_Warning:_** pathetic English from a learner. I've only been studying English for a year and a half, so please be nice and tell me all my mistakes, so I can correct them. And yes, I know a lot of phrases don't make sense at all, so, please, review the authoress and she will correct everything!

This is only the first part, is a song fic, so I don't own Inuyasha (I own, however, Sesshomaru, Kouga, Miroku and a couple more, I can dream, can't I?) or the song, which is "Rest in peace" I don't know whose song it is, a friend made me listen to it and I liked it, so I'm sorry for not being able to say more.

* * *

_**KOHAKU

* * *

**_

My body does not want its rest, my mind does not want to leave its thoughts, my heart does not want to leave its beating. I keep breathing. And it's your entire fault. Your fault, you bastard.

All of this is your fault.

All of it.

And I hate you. I hate you so much that it's hard to breathe sometimes. I hate you like no human heart ever has, except from yours, perhaps. But not only you, no, I despise myself too. I despise myself so much that I would take my life if I weren't such a coward.

But all is your fault, you manipulative demon.

My memories run one after another in my mind, disturbing, retorted; an unfocused nightmare without end. But it has a beginning. You. You are my beginning. And you'll be, someday, my end.

All started when you killed me to satiate your insatiable thirst of pain and suffering. You are so pathetic when you do that to calm your 'nervousness'.

"_I died_

_So many years ago"_

You killed me. Me. My family, my friends. My innocence. My town. What my town symbolized.

And why?

Because you are a sick bastard that isn't worth living.

Because you were bored. Because you enjoy other's pain, it feeds your corrupted and black soul.

However, you decided to keep me. Although I was a child of only eleven years old, and I was already dead. Although I was nothing more than a peon at your hands.

"_You can make me feel_

_Like it isn't so"_

Disgraceful. You returned me to life. And, today, my life is tours. Tough I'm free, I'm yours. Contradiction? No, because it's you, yours is the fault and mine is the same.

You brought me to life, you make me feel alive. You make me feel. You make me have feeling. Live. Cry.

My body is dead. I'm dead. However, my body grows, needs food, feels tired, it develops, acts, runs, jumps. It attacks. It kills. So, my body lives. But I'm dead.

And you are so determined for my body to continue living. Baka youkai.

And you don't realize that I want to die. I wonder why you don't let me die, why you are so keen on keeping me, why you look out for me, why you remain with me after a mission, when I'm at… I was going to say 'at home'. How estrange. You destroyed my home, and now the place that was my prison, I call it my home.

"_And why you come to be with me_

_I think I finally know_

_mmm-mmm"_

And you keep going to me. You ask me things. You try to speak with me. But I don't answer. I'm so silent, or perhaps not, but you will never know.

You smile at me.

You smile maniacally, you smile almost all the time, you almost smile even when you are frustrated. I hate and I love your smile.

Sometimes is that characteristically yours smirk. That one which only screams that you have a sick mind, you are perturbed, you are planning something that goes against all moral, dignity and conscience. That smile of yours of self-efficiency, and that tells that you are aware of your own power and superiority.

That other smile you have, malicious, when you are plotting something especially deathly. And that last smile, a real and sincere smile, rare, estrange, lost in an ocean of repugnant facial expressions. A small, simple smile, only a light curvature of your lips in an elegant line, showing the being you once were, but you killed.

That smile you only show to me.

I recognize that I feel strange when I see it. My body trembles, my heart accelerates, because I don't know what to think. With that smile you seem almost human, almost worth of respect, of compassion, of friendship, of love. That smile which disarms me completely, for being so unexpected, the strangeness it ensues, but it seems so natural in you, mainly when you add that oh so intense gaze of yours. Your glare, injected in blood and passion. So full of passion.

And your eyes.

Those eyes.

I felt nauseous of myself, but mainly I'm afraid of me, when I thought about your eyes and your lips.

I hate you, but I need your almost-human smile.

I remember the first time I saw it. It's sure you do too. It was four years and a half ago. I tried to kill you, I almost achieve my goal, but then you smiled at me.

Now that I think about it, I'm the only one who has tried to murder you so directly, the only one to almost do it, and I'm still breathing. Cursed manipulative bastard. Torturer. I wanted to slay you; I wanted to erase us from the world, together. To finish at least with my misery and your evilness, and the suffering inflicted on me by your evilness, and both feelings were supposed to end together, to vanish and to dissolve in the memory of those that, at one time, crossed paths with us, and to be lost in the intricate turns of History. But no, you, as always, you have to stay here.

And you smiled at me and you caressed my face.

And I felt ashamed.

And you diverted your gaze ashamed of that weakness.

And I hate you. I hate you because I needed you. I wanted to die with you then, don't you see? And you impeded it. I should have died with you, sealing our fates. But no. it seems that that exact day my world changed completely. And yours mutated, transformed to accommodate to mine, to the world we share today. The same world.

My eyes changed its color that day, and I buried a poisoned dagger inside your body. How is it possible that you allow my pitiful existence when I tried to murder you while you were comforting me?

Because you were holding me in your arms when I stabbed you with that dagger.

That day everything changed. You changed. But, most of all, I changed. Or perhaps it was you who changed and I was only capable to see you from a different pint of view.

Nowadays, you don't control me, but you do.

And you keep coming to me.

To an exterminator of demons.

And you are a demon. And one of the worst. Specially wicked, mercilessly, dangerous, deathly. Unworthy of being able to infuse respect and dread.

But I don't want to kill you, although it is my duty, my honour and my right, and I don't want to, I don't have the right, I don't have enough honour left in me.

But you haven't it either.

_You're scared_

_Ashamed of what you feel_

_And you can't tell the ones you love_

_You know they couldn't deal_

I know, I know you search for my company when you're alone. I'm not stupid. I know you prefer me to stay in the room which is facing the garden. You sit in the border, studying the place, concocting a plan till the minimum detail, you damn perfectionist, or simply rejoicing in other's disgraces, while I sit somewhere in the wide room. I read, studying the great number of books you have procured me in your pillages.

You know how to keep me quiet and distract my thoughts from poisons and daggers aimed at you. You give me a book. You give me paper to write in- sometimes you tell me something, sometimes you explain me poems, history, poisons, fighting techniques. You teach me. And you know I'll be quiet, I'll listen to you in silence, attentive to your smooth and grave voice. It is perhaps that you are more proud if your 'pet' can quote Kamo no Chomei while he is beheading a youkai?

Is that?

Your slave has to be perfect?

Is that the reason because you won't let me heal on my own?

Is that the reason for what you don't let me show scars?

Is it?

Each time I return wounded, you do it.

I know. I have received many, uncountable, infinite wounds, beats, scratches, burnings, cuts, along my years at your service. And, however, nothing alters the perfection of my skin. You take charge of that. You don't send any of those youkai imps you have, no, you o it personally, and I can feel the uncomfortable gazes of certain other slaves. I sense their gazes of disgust, jealousy and repulsion for being distinguished with this dubious 'honour': be cured by your own hands.

When I arrive, soaked in dirt, blood, poison and sweat, you carry me to the annexed room. There you strip me, carefully avoiding seeing me nude, you wash my wounds with gentleness, trying to not harming me. It seem that you don't want me to think that you are a sick mind, avid for the sight of a naked and male young body, although my body is not very desirable. It seem that you think that I'm impure to look at.

Ah, I forgot. I am.

You cure my wounds. One of the youkais you consumed, or perhaps several, I don't mind the number, had healing powers. So you treat me, you make sure that any of the cuts leave a permanent scar. You restack my bones, erase the poison and the acid from my sanguine torrent. Wit h the gentleness of somebody concerned, almost like a lover.

You let me sleep. You remain by my side, in vigil, with the treat of a relapse. But you don't fear them, I think you remain by my side because you are capable of noticing that veiled desire in me.

That really frightens me. That you can feel the desire. But, most of all, that it exists.

Sometimes, when you can't heal me entirely, and you have to relay in my own capacities of healing, and I awaken, there's something in your eyes: relief. You are relieved that I'll live, that I will remain here.

But, of course, you can't let anybody to know that you care for me, for a weakling, a human that has already died twice. Your own catamite.

And, thanks to you, you dirty and despicable being, I keep on living and breathing, although I don't desire it.

And you keep the rest of the youkai lords of my weaknesses, assuring that I'm mortal, that I never fail, that I am quick and effective, and that it is the reason for why you have not rid of me yet. You challenge them to find any proof on my body of my supposed failures. Nothing will be found. My skin is perfect, I'm healthy.

I'm a young man of 1.90 meters, black hair, slender but fit figure, due to many years of fighting, I'm healthy. I have killed two tai-youkais.

So the rest of lords accept your version and think I am your servant.

Dreamers. Tough, in a certain way, it's true. That is your power. I can't kill you. I have opportunities, but I don't do it.

_Whisper in a dead man's ear_

_It doesn't make it real…_

…_That's great_

And you refuse it. You refuse that those spark of worry exist behind your eyes. You deny that I'm free, tough I am. It's unreal. My life is… unreal. I'm dead. Twice. Dead. And my life is so weird. I'm with you, the man who reduced me to what I am now. And I can't hate you. But I do. I wish to hate you, but I don't desire it at the same time. I yearn for you to suffer the same horror that I am through everyday, all because of you. Bunt I don't.

I'm so confused. This is unreal. The only thing real in my life is the pain. The suffering that bounds me to a life, to an existence I should not be living, I don't want to live, but you are so stubborn to let me die.

Your plans for the future bore me. You say I can't escape, but I can. No matter how many times you deny it, no matter how much you try, you know that our life is not real. Because I'm a dead exterminator, you are a dead and revived human, desecrating himself with demon blood. And this is false, but it's true, tangible. I am here, reading. And you are over there, looking at me reading, with an undecipherable look in your eyes, you sickening pervert. In spite of everything, I let you to look at me. I know you usually plan something when you gaze so intently. You are searching for a weakness in my mind. You don't catch anything, I don't let you. However, I will say that I have one: it torments me day and night, one that plague my mind: I'm alive, and I'm with you. And I'm yours and I'm not at the same time.

And I hate you, but I don't.

And you despise me, you hate me, but you take care of me. You protect me, you cure me and you listen to what I say. You give me caprices I never asked for. Manipulative bastard. You have introduced yourself in my brain and you will never let me in peace.

You have inserted yourself in my soul.

Leave me.

* * *

_End of the first chapter. Thank for reading, and please give me your opinion. Flames are allowed, by the way._

_Davinci

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_


	2. Kohaku 2

**_Warning:_** there'll be yaoi, although there will not be hentai acts. Sorry guys. However, it has hard images.

**_Warning: _**violence, lots and lots and lots of anguish.

**_Warning:_** pathetic English from a learner. I've only been studying English for a little more than a year and a half, so please be nice and tell me all my mistakes, so I can correct them. I take very seriously my learning, as you could guess for my rather high English level for such a short time of learning. And yes, I know a lot of phrases don't make sense at all, so, please, review the authoress and she will correct everything!

This is only the first part, is a song fic, so I don't own Inuyasha (I own, however, Sesshomaru, Kouga, Miroku and a couple more, I can dream, can't I?) or the song, which is "Rest in peace" I don't know whose song it is, a friend made me listen to it and I liked it, so I'm sorry for not being able to say more.

This is the continuation of the first chapter.

* * *

Leave me.

_But I don't wanna play_

But I keep acting in your play of torture, following you like a loyal and submitted slave. But I despise me so much, but I can't avoid it. I belong to you, tough I'm free. I'm yours, yours to torture, yours to make me suffer.

I don't wanna play. I want you to leave me.

I want to be free from you.

I want to be far from you.

_'Cause being with you touches me_

_More than I can say_

And I can't separate my eyes from your slender figure while you walk towards me. And I can't spare my eyes from your eyes when you look at me and study me.

And I can't separate my eyes from your lips when you move them, when you talk, when your velvet and smooth voice talks. In general, I don't listen to you. You think I don't want to hear you, but I am only protecting myself. The sound of your voice is so relaxing…

It soothes me, it calms me, you appease me. Appease the beast in me which wants to kill you, to stab you with thousands of daggers, to traverse you chest with a katana and cut into pieces your perfectly sculpted body.

But for you I'm only a toy, a being without own life, only a doll to break in the worst ways and then to throw it away, once you had tired of it, so it can sink in its own misery and the depths of depression.

_And since I'm only dead to you_

_I'm saying stay away and_

_Let me rest in peace_

That's, I'm dead to you, but you like to play with the dead. I remind you that you are one of them, a miko killed you 59 years ago.

And you know it.

But you don't care.

I want to be free of you, of your presence, of your power above me. I want to be free, but I want to be your slave and to suffer by your side, to suffer for you.

And I hate you for the confusion that plagues my mind, because I never know anything, because you keep me alerted and because you make me feel secure and safe, protected, to send me then to a sure death.

So let me rest in peace, go away from my thoughts, leave my mind. I want you to leave. Let me rest and bury my confusion. I want me to not suffer anymore for my family, for my sister, for my village, for myself. I want the love I felt for them vanish. Sincerely, I think that it is the only way I could ease the pain.

So let me rest in peace, go away, leave my mind. I gave everything I was to you, so let me die, let me reach my sleep.

Let me rest in peace.

_Let me rest in peace_

_Let me get some sleep_

I want to sleep far from you and your disturbing image. I want you to leave. Let me rest in peace. But I can't leave with you. You'll die with me.

_Let me take my love and bury it_

_In a hole 6-foot deep_

_I can lay my body down_

_But I can't find my, sweet release_

_So let me rest in peace_

I want to not feel anything. All I do is to repeat incessantly in my mind all my memories. My family, my father teaching me how to fight, to kill beings like you. But I didn't want to be a murderer. I disliked violence. However, my sister Sango, she comforted me. She was so strong. Strong, powerful, quick and deathly, beautiful, perfect, unreachable. I was a weak child, slow, imperfect, unworthy. Unworthy to be called an exterminator, I was a coward. But, at least, I was protected then. And you appeared, and destroyed all I knew, you made me erase all I minded, using my body as a weapon.

Sometimes I wonder how is that you choose me, a clumsy and weak eleven-year child, instead of one of the more skilled exterminators. I suppose that the fragile mind of a child is easier to manipulate. But you used me. I know it wasn't my fault; I was under your control, but… I also know that you weren't completely you then.

It seems impossible, but I'm disposed to swear it. It was not you… at least not entirely you. Some of the demos that you had absorbed had been slayed by my comrades, my own father, my own sister, my neighbours. I suppose they were looking for revenge. Sometimes, in order to train, exterminators kill innocent and harmless youkais.

It's cruel, but it's the way a teijiya is. Teijiyas, like demons, have certain rules that cannot be broken, and that I have violated so many, too many times.

An exterminator does not feel compassion, he only can act two ways: if the demos is not dangerous and can be trained, use it. If the demon can make its own decisions, or is to dangerous, kill it. An exterminator doesn't speak with demons. An exterminator does not live with them. An exterminator never works for them. An exterminator should never be cured by one. An exterminator never, never, never let a youkai manipulate him.

And the main rule: an exterminator never falls in a spiral of love-hate with a demon. And never, with a demon like you. If you were like Kouga, Inuyasha o Sesshomaru, I will have something to defend me, they have a heart. I doubt you have a heart. And if you have one, I swear one day I'll destroy it.

But you eliminate those demons from you years ago. You made yourself a bit weaker only for me. You said it isn't normal to try to kill and to try to save somebody simultaneously. It distracted you from your goals

Bastard, at least then I could blame on them your acts.

I hate you.

But I can't.

Then I don't remember anything, it was not me, it was only a body.

I was… far away.

Not here. Not in my body. I could see myself from outside. I could see my body do all those murders, but it was not me. A person feels and experiments though his body, his soul moulds to the body it has. Inuyasha won't have such a fiery soul if he had not had to fight all his life for survival, all those humiliations because of his half-breed body.

But I could only see myself sometimes.

Most of times I was reviving my past, each day of my childhood, all my memories, all the faces I used to love. The universe seen through the eyes of a child.

And the next day, I was with you. I could not remember my past. There was anything in my head. No memories, no feelings, only a void. A void, and a giant youkai in front of my eyes trying to eat me. It hit me, I fell unconscious. The last thing I saw were you killing that demon without even approaching it, only throwing him a dagger. It's probably the dagger was poisoned. I awakened in a comfortable bed in a huge and luminous room. You were here, staring with those red eyes. Blood red eyes. You took care of me, you rocked me when I cried, you were considerate and polite. You made me feel protected, I believed you were a hero. Because I didn't know your true mind. I only knew you had saved me from that youkai, and that you allowed me to live in your palace. And that you gave me commodities, education, respect, and you were kind, and you listened.

You are a great actor, and I hate you because I trusted you.

I loved you, I didn't recall anything or anybody, only you filled my life and that was enough. I did not need memories to taint my life with you. I was happy, you did not let anything damage me, you protected me from the demons who wanted to end the lineage of exterminators. Your voice soothed me, your presence gave me life. I loved and respected you.

I wanted to remain by your side forever. A teen of fourteen wishing to remain with his saviour all the time he was allowed to.

But then they attacked. And they killed me. The last thing I heard before dying for the second time was a light sob from you, or so I thought.

And then I was alive again, as if I only had fallen unconscious, and I had all my memories. And the pain and the guilt was unbearable, so I decided to end your life and mine too. The goal nobody achieved, I was going to achieve it. I would erase your venomous and poisonous presence of this world. But first I began to cry desperately. And, in a blurry image, I saw you. And, among all, I did the only thing I felt right at that moment: I ran to your arms and cried. Because you were always there to soothe and calm me. Because you comforted and understood me. Because a great part of me trusted you. Because a small part of still was that frightened teen that had no memories except from yours.

And you didn't reject me, you should have, you knew it was only the prelude, but no, you had to comfort me, to rock me and to make me feel better, and worse at the same time, because you made me feel better.

_You know,_

_You got a willing slave_

_You just love to play the thought_

_That you might misbehave_

_Till you do,_

_I'm telling you_

_Stop visiting my grave_

I cried until exhaustion. And you rocked me between your powerful arms and you let me do it, until I finally surrender to my tiredness and I fell asleep in your protective embrace, lulled by your silky voice, your whispers, your sighs, your breath, and the velvet sound of your heart beating in your chest, that rhythm that is unique and disconcerting.

And it frightens me that, almost today, I find your presence so… relaxing… calming…

It terrorizes me.

When I woke up, lying besides you, my head over your chest, my right arm over your heart, and I inhaled your essence, like a forest, with a light touch of sea. I had always wondered why you smell of sea… Like you were once part of it. Who knows. But it's relaxing, comforting, overwhelming and… scaring.

I extracted a poisoned dagger from my boots. In your sleep, in your dream, your fingers caressed my back's skin among the shreds of my silk clothes, clothes that you yourself chose and gave me. You are such a pervert. Hand-embroidered silks, the finest brocades and delicate obis wrapped me, only for your sight. Your slaves wear silk, showing to everyone your power and wealth.

I stabbed the dagger into your heart, my first willing murder, without your orders inside my mind, and then I rested my head in your chest, waiting to die, waiting for your arms to leave my back and then your claws ripping my throat and my heart simultaneously, with poison, with acid. I knew you were a merciless demon, I knew it, but you also were my saviour and I wanted to die with you.

With you.

But you didn't kill me, you simply stared at my blood covered hand, you red eyes were darkened to an almost garnet shade.

"You have poisoned me"

It was a statement, made with a soft and sweet voice, without hatred.

I closed my eyes and held your body tighter, your body, which was cooling quickly.

"I'm glad… that you are alive"

That phrase was a stab in my heart, which skipped a few beats. I felt a hand pulling off of my back and I relaxed my muscles, waiting to feel your claws tearing me, but I only felt a gentle caress in my cheek. Mind-torturing me, making me feel guilty for killing you, even when you were dying. And I began to feel bad, to regret, to hate myself for hating you.

For not asking your motives. I don't think you had explained them, either.

I opened my eyes in surprise and I focused your wonderfully red gaze, that which is hypnotic, and I saw your smile, your lips with a line of blood in them. Your smile surprised me greatly, it was that smile, that true smile we have talk before… and your eyes' expression was… unreadable…

Gorgeous, estrange, comforting… accusing. I left my head fall over your chest again and I fell asleep, beaten and defeated. You were truly happy that it was me the one that was killing you, you were so happy because you had corrupted me fully. Guilt is a powerful feeling. As it is regret. And you are an expert at using them; you know how to make me feel exactly the way you want me to feel. Manipulative, sickening bastard.

When I woke, you were caressing my hair, petting me gently. You still bled, but you were far more powerful than I supposed you to be.

"Good morning, Kohahu" you called me by my name, no 'human', 'you', 'exterminator', 'slave', 'imp'. Simply, my name sliding between your lips, staying in them a little long, escaping from your inviting mouth in a whisper.

I closed my eyes. I knew the truth then, and I know it now: I'll never escape from you. You'll never let me rest in peace.

_Let me rest in peace_

You didn't say anything. Days later, Kanna showed me my burial. It was simple, calm, silent. Sango, Miroku, Inuyasha, Kagome, Shippo, Kirara, Sesshomaru, Rin, Kouga. Ginta, Hakkaku, y Jaken too.

I wonder why the rest came. Only my sister knew me, the true Kohaku, not only a living golem. Probably, in a sign of respect to my sister. Sango seemed peaceful at least. They only buried my weapon from the exterminators' village. They supposed destroyed my body.

I knew that I wasn't able to go with them. Today I can't return to my family, tomorrow I won't be able either. I can't cloud their felicity. I can not stand the fact that they would despise me, they would reject me. I want to die at the thought.

My sister was my only family. The same family that you killed, the same family that today tells her newborn son about his dead uncle and how he fought to you.

If she knew the truth…

I should have left when you survived, I should have returned, I should have tried again to kill you, and the commit seppuku, making honourable, if not my life, at least my death.

But no.

_I know I should go_

_But I follow you like a man possessed_

I should have gone away, but I know I had to remain by your side. My sister was happy without me; I will only bring her problems and sadness. And I desire her so much happiness. But it wasn't the only reason. A part of me, I'm ashamed of it, desired to stay here, with you, with your gentle manners, your malicious smirk, your amazing and incredibly blood eyes, your protection. You. Always you at the end.

And that makes me hate and despise myself. I have deceived everyone. I'm a pathetic excuse for an exterminator, a pathetic excuse for a man.

But I can't avoid it. I look and there are you. Distant and nearby, impossible to touch you but impossible to avoid wanting it.

I hate you, bastard, murderer, demon.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I hate you.

But I can't hate you.

_There's a traitor here beneath my breast_

_And it hurts me more than you've ever guessed

* * *

_

_End of the second chapter. Thank for reading, and please give me your opinion. Constructive criticism, suggestions, comments are welcomed and encouraged. Flames are allowed, by the way._

_Davinci

* * *

_


	3. Kohaku 3

**_Warning:_** there'll be yaoi, although there will not be hentai acts. Sorry guys. However, it has hard images.

**_Warning:_** violence, lots and lots and lots of anguish.

**_Warning:_** pathetic English from a learner.Please be nice and tell me all my mistakes, so I can correct them. I take very seriously my learning. And yes, I know a lot of phrases don't make sense at all, so, please, review the authoress and she will correct everything!

**_Disclaimer:_** I don't own Inuyasha. I don't own the song, either. The song is called _'Rest In Peace_' and is sung by James Masters, and appears in a Buffy The Vampire Slayer episode, though when I began writing this I did not know it, but a very kind reviewer told me so, and I believe it completely. I really have to see that episode.

Well, this is the last chapter, tough I have been asked to make Naraku's POV, and I'm thinking about it. This is also a longer chapter.

* * *

_**KOHAKU

* * *

**_

_There's a traitor here beneath my breast_

_And it hurts me more than you've ever guessed_

The traitor in me wishes to stay with you, to feel your touch, those ghostly caresses with your fingertips, provoking light tickles where they pass. Caresses with those delicate, white, perfect, pure, hands. Hands that can transform into claws, perfect instruments of death, torture and murder. Gentle and strong hands. Your hands.

I feel sick when I detect my own desire.

The traitor in me wish to hear you voice asking me about my missions, if I feel well, what I'm reading. Sometimes you ask for my advice, attacking strategies.

I don't know if you had followed any of my tips, but I don't mind. I don't mind if you notice my despise for you in my voice. I behave as the youkai you are, cold, distant, and merciless.

I don't mind what you think about me. But it concerns me, and it hurts me the despise you answer my own despise with.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Sometimes I stare at your face. Now you seem not much older than me. You have a light exotic touch, you knew? You have dark hair, red and rounded (A/N: occidental, not Japanese) eyes. Perfect body. In occasions, I'm the one who cures you. It seems that I'm the only one you trust enough to let him touch you.

Ironic, isn't it? I'm an exterminator, I tried to kill you, I hate you, and you trust me, tough you know I'm free. You know that I could easily kill you. I have the knowledge, the skills, the strength and the needed weapons.

But I'm not able to do it.

Because, without you, my life will not have a sense.

Now I laugh. I have to seem paranoid, psychotic, for a brief moment I came to think that you were created to give my life a meaning, take it from the common lives humans have, make it special, lasting, worth of something more than the mortality to which I resist to surrender. To take it away from the anonymity, make it different. Because you are my reason.

The reason for which I'm so altered.

The reason for which I hate and I desire you.

The reason for which I'm here.

You know that since that day when you resurrected me all between us changed. You could not feign to be my protector and my saviour, and I could no feign respect to you anymore. You made me move from my room to a place without miasma, where my senses are not dulled by it. You gave me a powerful armament, poisons, daggers, knifes, very sharpened katanas, poisoned needles, capable to kill a dragon youkai, you gave me an armour that I don't use. You gave me a bow and arrows. You gave me an entire weaponry.

Sometimes, I use the bow. Never to kill. Instead, to relax. It has a calming effect on me. You tense the bow, feeling your muscles tighten with it; you focus your sight, on the objective, on the reveille. You shot. The arrow whispers to the wind its melody, like a whistle. The arrow embeds on the objective. The hiss of the arrow reminds me of your own hiss, when you are wounded and I heal you.

You gave me books, to distract me. Books about war techniques, fighting techniques, books about potions and youkai curses and magic. But then you began to give me books about mathematics, history, literature, poetry. Those books you selected for me, only for me.

Books about philosophy, only to try to maintain a conversation with me, with something more apart from monosyllabic words, but I think I never allowed you one of your desired dialogues with me, did I?

I don't want to know your opinion about life.

I'm afraid of your opinion about life and happiness. I'm scared that, if I listen to it, I would understand it, and therefore, I could understand you, I could understand the ways your sick and bloody mind evolves. And I prefer to don't temp the luck.

You gave me silks, I have so many dresses, luxuries that only a few princes could afford, only to show your power.

Either that or you like to see me in black silk. I smile a retorted and sickened smirk now that I think about it. catamite, indeed. Tough you don't like to _see_ me.

And you keep me without marks, without scars. Except for the noticeable change of the colour of my eyes. My eyes are light purple with a pink iridescent touch. Just like the purified jewel. I still don't recognize those eyes. I will not recognize them ever, either.

But, when a youkai came to the palace, you show me like a trophy. An exterminator, with a free mind, after all you put me thorough, and I'm still at your service, on free will. And I still work for you. And I'm strong, and I'm able to maintain intelligent conversations. I believe that's the way you prove your subjugation power.

I'm sure you'd change me for anything you'd want, or worse, you will present me as a gift to a youkai lord in exchange of cooperation.

Once I heard you talking to another youkai. He asked you who you wished to die in order to possess that "little and delicious exterminator". I still wonder why I'm here and not with that demon. It was a fair exchange: the life of an enemy in exchange of me. The victim would probably have killed him, I suppose.

It hurt me to listen to that conversation, it hurt so much. Am I really such a boring entertainment that you were so wiling to exchange me for a murder you could do by yourself easily? Am I only merchandising? Am I not worth enough to be your 'pet'? Only a decorative object, to be used and then to be thrown?

The next day, you began to make me sit with you in the room which is open to the garden.

To keep me controlled, I believe. Losing a 'trophy' such as the last living and active exterminator should be very humiliating. Despite being only an object.

Perverted and spoiled youkai.

Sometimes, insults skip my tongue, sliding, appearing, without me noticing. As they do the uncontrolled lust lashes.

_If my heart could beat, it would break my chest_

_But I can see you're unimpressed_

I suppose that is my fate: to suffer for you, to suffer because you hate me. But I can't avoid this. I want to get out of here, but I refuse. I refuse. I feel that this is the only place where I could be wholly accepted.

I look at you and I discover a new thing each day. You are such a amazing person. You are always changing, but still you are the same. Today you are gazing at the falling rain, which is impregnating the air with humidity and coldness, with that smell of soaked earth and fresh grass. It's grey outside, and you are watching the rain pouring slowly. Your back is facing me, so I can't guess what you are thinking about.

Probably, your mind is occupied by another of those retorted manipulation plans. You bastard. I wish I could erase that malicious smirk that it's sure you show at this moment. But I have not enough strength.

I would like you to know what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, what torments me, and what is that who makes me feel so weak, what makes my soul be unrecognizable.

Because I see your back, only covered by a black silk yukata, which allows me to imagine your perfectly drawn curves.

I suppose you know it. All the demons that come to visit the 'powerful and mighty' Naraku look at you with desire. There's no need to have your accurate and sharpened senses to see that. Their eyes are so full of lust, and that sickening eyes stare at you with non-dissimulated hunger, while you seem totally oblivious to their advances and their futile attempts to seduce you. There are youkais of ethereal beauty, youkais with terrene beauty, and demons so attractive and gorgeous that take away your breath only to look at them. They're powerful, and so much desirable, and they want you, but you have never reacted to anyone. It's certainly sure you are thinking about that dead priestess, the one that used to came here to taunt you, to alter your sleep and to rip your peace. She was the main cause why you are here, isn't she? I suppose also that the mere thought of a man in your bed sickens you, nobody could never be compared to that miko, to her perfection: powerful, beautiful, wise, young, and completely unreachable.

But I can't do anything. Demons will keep coming, they will keep on gazing at you like you were meat (for some of them it would not be a problem, in fact) and I will keep on feeling my anger climbing in spiral through my back, jealousy and hatred growing exponentially towards them for daring to look at you in that way. But I can only look at you and hate you for being there and not here, next to me.

I'm sickened of myself. To have these feelings about the very person who destroyed my life. And not only my life, no, but too many of them. I'm sick, if not physically, at least mentally. Tied to foulness, tied to you.

Sometimes I think I desire you so much because I can't have you, because I have spent all my teenage years without any physical contact except the necessary for killing, and, in special occasions, your wandering hands while you are healing my wounds.

But it is only a way to try to fool myself.

I desire you. I hate you. And I hate desiring you.

But I don't hate you, and I don't hate desiring you.

I am a poor and confused child that begs for someone to notice him, to take care of him, and to be lulled to a peaceful sleep.

Preferently, by you.

You are what keep me alive, you sickening bastard.

_So leave me be and_

_Let me rest in peace_

_Let me get some sleep_

Leave me, leave me, get out of my mind, of my heart, of my anguish, of my pain, get out of my life.

But don't get away.

I sound so desperate, so confused, so absurd, I realize, but I am truly desperate, truly confused, and my life is great fake, a theatre where I'm not the protagonist. No, it's you.

Don't extend the wires of your control and power over me.

Let me die.

Let me have scars. Let me sink in my misery; drown slowly in the sea of horror which is my life. Leave me.

I only want to rest in peace. Only to rest in peace.

Please.

But each time I close my eyes, you are the only thing I see. When I sleep, you are the only thing I dream about. When I kill, you are the only thing I base my concentration on.

Please, let me rest in peace. Let me die.

_Let me take my love and bury it_

_In a hole 6-foot deep_

I know each time is more and more difficult to control myself, for this reason, I want to keep me away from you, but I can't I want to bury all I feel, forget it, kill you and then begin a new life, the life a being like me should mot live. I don't deserve that life. I have killed too much, I have hated too much, suffered too much, experienced too much. And I'm too young to overcome it. I only want to die and abandon this pathetic existence.

To die.

But I want you to die with me. You are the reason of my existence, the reason for what I'm here. The reason for what I breath, and walk, and sleep, and suffer, and gaze, and look at you, and desire you, and hate you, and not hate you, and love you, and don't love you.

You are.

_I can lay my body down_

_But I can't find my sweet release_

_Let me rest in peace_

I want to forget you, forget that you exist, forget that you're here, but I don't want to.

What you have done to me is worse than every curse you can come with.

You continue staring at the rain, or at least I think so, because you are showing me your back. I forgot the book I was reading hours ago. Nobody interrupt us, only you and me and this room. Suddenly, your body moves, you slide and put yourself in a more comfortable position, allowing me to see briefly your face. Your face, with those perfect and elegant features, is relaxed, but it does not mean anything. Unlikely to me, you are able to bury your feelings and thoughts after being destroyed, of course.

Your skin glows. Your lips are slightly parted, in a very seductive way, and you have not realized yet, but my lips tremble due to the desire of touching yours, of caressing them, of feeling them, of kissing them.

Your eyes look at me for an instant. Your impossibly red gaze shines more than the usual. And I can't separate my gaze from you. I think you noticed. Now I really have to kill you, nobody should now of my supreme humiliation.

Your lips move, you murmur something, but I'm so lost I don't recall what you said. You are waiting for me to do something, and I don't know what it is.

"You're trembling, Kohaku".

You repeat. I nod. It's cold, my body shivers, but I haven't noticed until you said it. I was so buried in you. I suppose I'm too accustomed to forget myself when you are around.

"Come".

That was unexpected. I'm not wounded, I don't have a mission for now, and you can explain it from where you are. You should see confusion all over my face, but you ignore it.

"Come closer".

I get up, scared, your eyes have a dark expression, and I believe you are finally going to kill me. But at least I will die next to you. My dagger is soaked in poison for you. If you murder me, we'll die together.

I approach you and I stop two meters away from your figure. You give me a sigh.

"Closer, please".

Have you just said 'please'? Please? To me? Now I'm sure you're going to kill me, at least you would want to smooth my death in payment for all the years I have served you. I approach you mare, I'm standing besides your sitting form, you spread one of your powerful and delicate hands to mine, smaller, more callous, more human. You make me sit by your side. I obey. I never believed you would willingly dirty your skin with such an impure touch as mine.

_Why won't you_

_Let me rest in peace?_

Trying to calm my heart, I sit besides you. I feel, suddenly, your arms encircling me, your legs surrounding mine, my back leaning in your chest.

You... you… are holding… me?

Are you hugging me?

I feel your heart beating at that peculiar rhythm, so different from any other.

Calming, relaxing, soothing my nerves. My body goes limp in your embrace, confiding, although I should keep me on alert. But you are holding me and it is a warming and pleasant feeling. You hold me, and I gaze at the rain falling. The garden glows. Drops bounce in the leaves of bushes and trees, water soaks flowers giving them an unreal shine.

It's beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.

I sense the ghost of your breath in my nape, which provokes a shiver to run through my entire body, it's a throbbing and pleasant feeling, I close my eyes clouded with desire so you can't see it in them.

I feel your breathing rhythm altering, your heart beating a little more wild. But I'm warm, and comfortable, and I won't move. Because I feel fine here, and the rest of things does not matter anymore, they are dissipating slowly with the rain.

"Don't leave, Kohaku."

You say, and your voice is little more than a whisper. And I feel at peace, I feel the serenity filling my soul, washing my pain, momentarily, I know they'll return, but for now I feel calm, serene, safe, protected, there's no confusion, no pain, no anguish. I'm fine. I'm secure. I'm with you, the demon I despise most. And the being I love most. And he does not want me to leave him. I feel a wave of happiness overwhelm me, leaving me limp in your arms.

"I won't, Naraku".

And I turn mi head to face yours. In your lips, a smile is beginning to form. The curve is elegant, discrete, simple. Your lips mould to it with ease. It's a smile of relax, happiness. You're happy because I remain with you. I don't care if it's a trick of your manipulative and sick mind. I don't' care, because I know you are smiling, and your eyes shine with the most beautiful shade of red I've ever seen, and your arms are around me. And I'm at peace. I'm dead, and I'm at peace. I hate you, but I love you and I'm being hugged by you and your breath is against my neck and everything is okay. And my life has a meaning.

It has meaning because I'm with you.

I turn again mi face I stare at the rain pouring, bouncing, shining trough the light. And I know, that of only for a brief moment, it is me who plagues your mind.

We are demon and exterminator. Prey and depredator.

And you are my life, the reason I breath. I won't go, because I belong to you.

You, and nobody else, Naraku.

* * *

_**Fin

* * *

**_

_End of the series. Thanks for reading, and please give me your opinion. Constructive criticism, suggestions, comments are welcomed and encouraged. Flames are allowed, by the way. _

_Thanks specially for those 4 people who are the only ones who take the time to rewiew my story: _Edwardd, slytherin dragon-gurl, Dark Angel Of Fire Ice, and Kags.

_**Davinci**_


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